


The Prey

by OrangeAmere



Series: The Wolf In Him [1]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Basement, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Car Accidents, F/M, Fucked Up, Gen, Good dad martin whitly, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Knife Play, Medical Torture, Michael sheen is wonderful, Mild Blood, Multi, Other, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killers, Torture, Young martin whitly, scalpel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22958338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeAmere/pseuds/OrangeAmere
Summary: Martin Whitly is your guardian angel. He saved your life from a car crash. But is it actually a blessing?
Relationships: Martin Whitly/Original Character(s), Martin Whitly/Original Female Character(s), Martin Whitly/Reader, Martin Whitly/You
Series: The Wolf In Him [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663909
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyoneee! I hope you'll enjoy that fic. ^.^ If it pleases people, I may write new chapters. Please, Kudos and Comments would be lovely and if you have any ideas, anything you'd enjoy to see being added in the story, tell me. ~

-"Hi, Dr.Whitly!"

The man turned his head toward the voice calling him. Removing the small glasses he was wearing and closing the book in his hands, a smile brightened his face. 

-"Oh, [Y/n]! Such a pleasure to see you here."

You had met the doctor soon after you moved in New York. Leaving behind your past, you had needed to take a new start. Unfortunatly, what you discovered was a sordid, tiny, shabby and yet expensive flat, an underpaid job in a restaurant and a car crash. The accident would have killed you if it wasn't for the wonderful skills of the Doctor Martin Whitly, who saved your life.  
This man was your guardian angel. 

So when you noticed your savior, months after the car crash, sitting down at the same table you had cleaned barely a few minutes ago, you went immediatly greeting him.  
After some rushed small talk, you gave him the menu, and was forced to resume your work, called away by your boss. 

-"Excuse me, I need to leave."  
-"When do you finish your shift?"  
-"At five, why?" You said, glancing nervously toward the counter. You couldn't dwell much longer.  
-"I hoped we could drink some tea together."

You stuttered, and mumbled something before stepping away. Martin was really charming, and you were free for your evenings. But at the same time, you barely knew him. It wasn't enough to go at a man's house safely. You were going to refuse when he added:

-"My children will be here. Do you mind?"  
-"...Alright."  
-"Great. I'll pick you up." His smile widened and you left him after having waved. 

During your shift, your thoughts kept coming back on the kind doctor. He was a father, a husband certaintly too. This last part made an area of your chest aching. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The house was beautiful. Big without being flashy, elegant without being fancy. He unlocked the door for you, walking on the side to let you entering first, in the hall. The evening was already falling over the city, covering the sky in heavy, deep dark blue fog, but it all disappeared as you penetrated inside the hall.  
You couldn't help but blush as the doctor guided you to the living room. On the wall, you noticed the pictures of his children and of his wife and it reassured you, as you sat down in a comfortable armchair. 

-"Wait for me. I'll prepare you a cup of tea." He warned, leaving the room.

Glancing up, you saw a young boy watching you from the stairs. He made a gesture then shook his head but disappeared as soon as he heard his father coming back. A bad feeling built up inside your chest but you pushed it away, ignoring the warning as Martin came back with a bright, kind smile and a hot, delicious cup of tea. 

-"Thank you." And you brought the cup to your lips, humming. And the doctor started to speak, about his life since the last time you had met. And his voice was sweet, and it slowly turned into mush. 

Next thing you knew, the cup was half empty on the table, your limbs were limp and unmoving. Your unfocused gaze saw in the corner of its sight the Doctor's gentle smile becoming wicked. 

-"Sleep tightly. It's going to be so much fun." He promised to your ear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's what happens next! I hope you will enjoy it and thank you MessyWorld and Bilbon_Socket for your comments!

Martin remembered the details of (Y/n)'s case perfectly. He had even kept the file, stored in the shelf of his office, in the middle of the others. A serious car crash, and two victims. One he could have saved, while it was hopeless for the second. Both unconscious. 

The surgeon had preferred to try to save the second one, who happened to be (Y/n). Leaving the other dying, and proving he had realized what the other doctors thought impossible. The success of this surgery had been beyond his hopes, but the instant he saw the patient's eyes opening, he knew he would be the one closing them. 

(Y/n) owed him life and so, this life he would take back. He had waited for months, struggling against the itch, the need to erase that face burning his pupils, fighting against himself but eventually just giving up. It wouldn't be the first life he took, and he saved more than he could count daily. 

A whimper was being heard in the cold basement room. Laid down a metal table, there was leather straps hanging from the sides. Ready to be used if the ketamine stopped to keep you quiet and unmoving. 

Martin was washing his hands in a small sink in the corner, methodically, trained for years, as he heard a second whimper. 

"Hush. I'm coming back, don't be so eager."

You couldn't move in the slightiest, but you could feel everything. The cold under your naked back, your whole body being exposed to that man, the terror in your belly. After having finished the cup of tea, he had carried your limp body here, in the basement. He locked behind him the door, so heavy that you knew nobody would be able to hear your pitiful, weak whimpers. 

From what you could see, there was metal shelves against the wall, filled with medical tools, giving you shivers only by glancing at them. There was no decoration, but the room was clean.   
The sweet, charming voice of the doctor kept talking to you, while he grabbed latex gloves, but you didn't hear anything past the snap of the elastic around his wrists. 

You couldn't speak, but your mind was begging loudly, to be forgiven for your mistake, to have trusted and having been naive. The regrets were heavy, your overwhelming sadness strangling you with tears you could only let flowing down your face.

"When I saw you... Irreparably broken after the accident, I knew I had to save you. And I did." The man talked, pushing back behind your ear a bit of hair, stuck to your cheek with your sweat. "I saved you." He observed the scars on your body, the one he had caused, opening you to save your life, fix the bones threatening to harm your organs. 

Your eyes were filled with questions, with disgust as he slid his gloved index over a scar going from the beginning of your chest to your belly. 

"Scared?" He asked. His smile was still... Lovely. Charming, but the contrast of the situation turned it into a predatory, sarcastic one. Your chest went up and down quickly and his index froze there, following the motion of your oxygen in your lungs. You felt his fingers, felt his intense gaze on your naked body. 

If it wasn't for him being a sick criminal, you could have shared more. You had wanted more, and had day dreamed about some comfy, sweet like his sweater, loving time. You had wished to feel his beard against your cheek for a kiss, not the itch of it scratching against your neck as he whispered to your ear, almost growled:

"I love playing with my preys."

A scalpel pressed against your thigh.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a scream in your chest. Resting against your lungs, tightened and compressed by a cruel strenght.   
There was the blank, torturous pain of the scalpel slowly sliding down your right thigh, following the curves until your knee. 

It was a caress. Cold, flooding your face with tears, red and sick. But it was a caress. The doctor did the same a second time, just above the previous injury before stepping back and observing your blood leaving your body, pooling on the metal table, under your bum. 

The pain was nothing next to the one you had gone though just after the car crash, having to learn to use your muscles again. But back then, you were gaining your life back. 

In this basement, you were watching it dying away. 

Martin brought the scalpel close to your face, until a few drops of your own blood fell and joined your tears. His eyes were dark, full of violence and... Pleasure. He was enjoying this. 

The scream in your chest couldn't leave your almost paralyzed being, but whimpers, desperate sobs left your swollen lips, colored in some shade of blue from the cold. 

The scalpel rested over your neck, right against the carotid and it was visible in Martin's eyes that he hesitated to kill you. At this very instant, drawing the cutting part inside your shivering veins and watching, eyes in eyes, your life crying out of you. 

There was a childish voice, a shout that interrupted him. His son, calling his Dad and starting to knock at the metal door. The doctor's gentle expression came back, and you wondered if it was even a mask.   
Despite being a monster, he seemed genuinely kind. 

The thought left you quickly, though, as he walked toward door and that you desperatly tried to scream and move, make noises, let your presence being noticed. That little boy may be your only hope! Thanks to your efforts, you managed a loud whimper, and squirmed on the table. 

\- "Oh, (Y/n)... You really shouldn't have done that."

Doctor's Whitly voice whispered as he approached to a table and a needle. Your eyes widening, he flicked the siryngue and its odd blue content several times. 

"You force me to put you back to sleep." In your ankle. Under seconds, your protests collapsed, your conscious mind slipped and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Before your eyelids covered your pupils, you saw Martin's back, kneeling and standing up again, picking his son up.

"It's just a nightmare, my boy. Hush, Malcom. Hush."


End file.
